


The Way You Do

by SurlyCat



Series: Porny Presents [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fallen Castiel, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Schmoop, Sex dice, of which Cas is skeptical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2394206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurlyCat/pseuds/SurlyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without preamble, Cas blows a breath right over Dean’s lips and then raises his eyebrows, as if to say ‘see, nothing special, just air over skin, and the dice are stupid.’</p><p>"I said if you do it right,” Dean says flatly. “And that was not right.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way You Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beginte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beginte/gifts).



> Ha...look at me pretending that most of season 9 didn't happen. Yeah, just assume that Cas didn't leave the bunker and Dean doesn't have the mark and TFW has been hunting together. Written for a prompt of sorts. Enjoy!

Dean blinks as he peers down into his duffel and his eyes land on an item that wasn't there this morning, and that he sure as hell didn't put in there. Sam was off doing his own thing most of the day, so really, it could only leave Cas, and especially considering that they've been sharing a bag on this particular trip.

But why? There's been no shortage of enjoyment between them, and they certainly haven't been together long enough for boredom to have set in. Hell, they haven't even really gotten into the thick of the honeymoon phase yet. Taking a page from Cas' book, Dean decides to just go for blunt.

"Why do we have sexy dice?"

Cas looks over from where he's sitting cross-legged on his bed and frowns in momentary confusion. Dean pulls the unopened package out and holds it up, and Cas' face smooths into understanding.

"The cashier told me I had to buy something, in order to get the change you needed for the air machine at the gas station we stopped at earlier. So I grabbed the closest thing to my hand," Cas explains calmly, but then he frowns again. "In hindsight though, I wish I'd taken longer to look, because I'm sure a candy bar would've been a more fulfilling purchase."

Oh. Well. That's a pretty rational explanation, and just so freakin' Cas.

Cas gets up then and walks over to the table where Dean is standing and holds out a hand for the package, scrutinizing it with just as much focus as he does anything else. Which is to say, far more focus than a pair of novelty dice really warrants.

"It seems that a person who needs a game of chance in order to figure out what to do while naked with their lover needs an education more than a pair of hot pink cubes from a convenience store," Cas mutters to himself, turning the package this way and that to look at the words printed on the dice.

Dean huffs a laugh because of course Cas would see the dice as having to serve a necessary function.

"It's not always about need and purpose, Cas. Sometimes it's just about having fun with the other person," he explains as he pulls his and Cas' sleep clothes out of the duffel.

Cas' brow pinches as his eyes glance back over the dice. "Suck…finger, doesn't sound all that entertaining," he says incredulously. "Neither does _blow lips_."

"It's entertaining if you do it right," Dean smirks.

Without preamble, Cas blows a breath right over Dean's lips and then raises his eyebrows, as if to say 'see, nothing special, just air over skin, and the dice are stupid.'

"I said if you do it _right_ ," Dean says flatly. "And that was not right."

Cas lifts his chin a bit defiantly and just barely pushes his own lips out in invitation. It shouldn't be adorable, but it fucking is, and Dean is a sucker from Suckertown on the outskirts of Lollipopolis. So he leans in and gives just the barest swipe of his tongue against Cas' bottom lip, and then blows a gentle stream of air across it, grinning in victory when Cas' lips part as if waiting for a kiss. When he realizes it isn't coming, Cas gives him a small glare.

"It's a tease," Cas says. "I don't know that I care for being teased."

The minute frown that accompanies the statement seems to push Dean into Teasing Shithead Mode because clearly, they haven't spent enough time teasing, if Cas can't find the appreciation in it. So he clasps a hand around Cas' wrist and pulls the man's hand up, sucking the index finger into his mouth.

At first Cas merely blinks with an incredulous sort of interest, but then Dean _sucks_ , and understanding seems to dawn when Dean swirls his tongue around the digit.

"Oh," Cas breathes.

Dean chuckles around the finger and pulls off with a purposely lewd pop, then dips back in to scrape the barest of teeth against the pad of Cas' finger and grins at the sharp intake of breath.

"Yeah, _oh_. Get it now?" Dean asks.

"I think it would be more enjoyable, if I knew for a fact that the teasing will lead somewhere," Cas says. "Otherwise, it seems unkind."

Dean sighs and drops the sleep clothes back in the duffel before he reaches up to loosen the tie that Cas is wearing; all they did today was play FBI and do research, and tomorrow they'll be plotting their move. But with nothing else they could do with their case for the night, Sam had begged off to his own room after dinner, leaving Dean and Cas for some much needed alone time. They've only been together, or whatever they are, for about a week now, but with the case they're working on and all the traveling, they've only managed to get in some furious dry humping and making out, and a couple of rushed hand jobs.

Cas lets Dean undress him, which is exciting in its own right, considering they've had yet to even be fully naked together. Dean goes about it with a single-minded determination, making it clear that he absolutely intends on the teasing to 'lead somewhere', and Cas relaxes a bit at the unspoken promise. As soon as his shirt has been pushed off his shoulders, Dean is gripping his hips and pulling Cas in for an urgent kiss.

It's all still so novel to both of them, so it's no surprise that the kiss goes from urgent to brain-meltingly frantic, hands bumping ungracefully, as neither can seem to decide whether to grope or finish undressing as they make their way to the bed. By the time Cas' knees hit the edge of the bed, Dean's shirt and pants are open, but still on his body, and Cas has somehow managed to get down to boxer briefs, socks, and the tie that for whatever reason is still hanging on his neck.

Dean takes a step back to appreciate the sight of Cas with his lips kiss-swollen and cheeks flushed, hair wild from Dean's pawing, and erection stretching the material of his underwear almost obscenely, and that fucking tie. Oh, the ideas he's had about that tie. But then he takes in the socks and huffs a laugh.

"The socks have gotta go, Cas," he says, feeling fondness and affection swelling in his chest.

Cas shoots him an unimpressed look, but rests a hand on Dean's shoulder and pulls a foot up from the floor all the same to tug at his sock. "And _all_ of your clothes need to go, _Dean_ ," he mimics back.

There's nothing sexy about the way Dean shoves his pants and underwear down in one go, while Cas is using him for balance to pull off his socks, and they nearly tumble over, when Dean goes to pull off his own. At one time Dean would've been cringing at his utter lack of smoothness, but Cas doesn't seem to care about things like that- at least not yet- so Dean doesn't worry about it because it would take a lot more than a lack of finesse for Cas to be done with him and Dean knows it.

At last, they're both finally naked, and there's a pause where they each just take a moment to appreciate each other, openly ogling. But then Cas' hands are smoothing over Dean's chest and stomach.

"Beautiful," Cas breathes, voice full of awe and reverence. "Even more so now, than the work I did with my own hands when I re-built you."

Dean feels a flush break out on his chest and run up his neck to land on his cheeks. He wants to argue Cas' words, but the look on Cas' face has the argument dying on Dean's tongue. There's just so much appreciation and affection and a faint edge of pain in those deep blue eyes that can only mean regret for past actions, that Dean just doesn't have the heart to try and invalidate what Cas is feeling.

No one has _ever_ looked at Dean the way Cas does.

And selfishly, Dean doesn't want him to stop, so he keeps his mouth shut. But then those eyes flick up to catch Dean's, and he watches as they darken with desire.

"I'm going to break you down and rebuild you again, Dean Winchester, but this time around you'll enjoy and remember every minute of it. I know every nerve, sinew, and bone in your body and I intend to make good use of the information," Cas says, voice dipping low and serious, and for a moment, Dean almost forgets that Cas is very much human.

It's so much like that tone he used to get when he was still mojo'ed up and would make his demands, with all the righteousness and intent of Heaven rumbling like quiet thunder beneath the blatantly human voice. Even human, Cas still reminds Dean of a hurricane, disguised as a man. And damned if it isn't still just as attractive as it was before, and Dean is so incredibly screwed.

"It will take time, of course," Cas continues softly, running light fingertips from Dean's jaw, down his neck, and across his collarbones. "I don't want to overwhelm you," he says, a tiny little smirk tugging at his lips.

"That's pretty big talk there," Dean grins back.

"I don't bullshit around, as you'd say," Cas replies, almost a purr.

Dean's heard Cas curse a few times, but hearing it in what is apparently his bedroom voice is a whole other thing. He's about to retort with something smartassed like 'then why don't you stop talking and do it', when Cas nudges at his shoulder.

"Get on the bed, please," Cas orders.

Not having to be told twice, Dean complies quickly, settling himself on his back in the middle of the bed; apparently, Dean isn't the one steering this ride, but he's too worked up to care. Cas climbs up after him and wastes no time pushing Dean's knees apart and crawling right up between them, resting his weight on his elbows on either side of Dean's arms. Never in his life did Dean think he'd be totally cool with letting a dude order him into bed and then climb right on top of him, but he has to admit that it feels pretty freakin' awesome when Cas' dick rubs right up against his own as the man settles in to ravish his mouth.

Cas eventually pulls back so they can catch their breath, but doesn't dally and immediately proceeds to mouth across Dean's jaw and down the side of his throat, lips and tongue finding every sweet spot Dean seems to have. Working his way down Dean's chest and taking a moment to tease at his nipples, Cas seems to zone out into a sort of Zen state of focus, humming pleased sounds against Dean's skin and working his way steadily down. Oh sweet merciful Jesus, Cas is scraping his teeth on his hipbone, and one hand is teasing at the juncture of thigh and groin, and seeing his own dick twitching next to a former angel's face should probably feel so much more wrong than it does. Which is not at all. No wrong, just 'yespleaseholyfuckhowisthismylife'.

"May I taste you?" Cas asks, mouth so close that Dean feels the warmth of his breath ghost across the head of his dick. Embarrassingly, said dick twitches in response and ends up tapping against Cas' lips.

Dean groans and throws a hand over his eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

The apology is cut off abruptly when he's hit with the simultaneous sensations of a hand wrapping around his dick, and a tongue lapping over the head. Dean's hand flies away from his face and he _has_ to look down because that's a sight he wants branded in his memory. It's just as bad as he expected if not worse, when Cas licks his lips and hums as if considering the flavor of a fine wine.

"You're saltier than me," Cas muses. When Dean doesn't respond, Cas looks up to see the no doubt wide-eyed look Dean is giving him. "What? I was curious."

"Holy shit, Cas," Dean breathes. Sure, he's known in some abstract way that Cas has probably jerked off since becoming human, but the mental image of it now is almost too much.

Cas gives a dark chuckle and without further ado, takes the head of Dean's cock into his mouth and starts suckling, eyes starting to take on that focus again. It's obvious that he's never given a blow job before, considering how he repeatedly switches tactics and tries different things, as if tuning an instrument, but it's still incredibly effective. And when he sinks down further and gets a rhythm going of bobbing and stroking with his hand, Dean loses the battle to keep looking and has to slam his head back into the pillows with a curse.

It's all the encouragement Cas seems to need, and he takes to his task with the sort of dedication that can only come from a true desire to succeed. Dean's pretty sure that any moment he's going to shred the sheets tangled in his fingers and quite possibly hyperventilate from how hard he's breathing, trying to keep his noises down for the thin walls of the motel room. He can't help the loud ' _ungh_ ' he lets out though, when he suddenly feels the head of his dick hit the back of Cas' throat, and barely refrains from bucking up into it.

Releasing a hand from the sheets, Dean tangles his fingers in Cas' hair and tugs to get his attention. "Close…gotta stop."

Cas pulls off with a frown. "I thought that was the goal," he grumbles, voice wrecked and deeper than ever, and totally unfair.

Dean shakes his head, taking in a shuddering breath. "Wanna come together," he admits, uncaring for how sappy it might make him. Not like Cas minds. "Come up here next to me."

Cas slithers up as requested and they both roll to their sides, Dean pulling him in for a kiss as soon as Cas' lips are close enough. He can taste himself on Cas' tongue and is pretty sure that shouldn't be appealing, but ignores the thought in favor of hooking his leg over Cas' hip and pulling them closer together. Snaking a hand between them, he gathers both their lengths in hand and shudders at the low moan that sounds in Cas' throat.

Hips bucking and kisses turning more to shared breaths, Dean swipes the pre-come gathering on each of their heads down their lengths and speeds up his motions with the new glide. Cas' brows are knitting up in pleasure and his hand is squeezing intermittently at Dean's shoulder and it hits Dean that Cas probably isn't even conscious of it, but the man is gripping at where his very own handprint used to be. It really is almost too much now, and Dean feels his orgasm building much faster than he anticipated, blood rushing in his ears and heart pounding behind his ribs.

On a particularly well-angled slide, Cas grits a tight, " _fuck_ ," and the sound is the beginning of the end for Dean.

"Shit Cas, oh fuck," Dean wheezes, feeling all that tension shooting up into his dick. And then he's coming hard with a barely contained keen, muffled into the crook of Cas' neck.

Moments later, Cas follows with a harsh pulse in Dean's hand, and absolutely no concern for the volume of his own voice as a ragged groan releases from his mouth, followed by an exaltation of Dean's name. Just like the few other times they've shared, when Dean forces his eyes to focus on Cas' face, he's met with a wide-eyed look of wonder as if Cas has just experienced the most incredible event of his life.

It's humbling and overwhelming, and everything that Dean doesn't deserve, but can't look away from even if he tried. He gets the sense that it's what it would feel like to look into a black hole, knowing that you won't come out, but edging closer and _needing_ to see what's on the other side. It's knowing the potential for destruction, but letting it take you anyway because all the terrifying glory of the universe, ancient and massive and unimaginable and beautiful could be waiting on the other side if you can only get close enough. He doesn't dare consider what his own eyes are showing.

And like a benediction, Cas leans in and kisses Dean with all of the affection and love and devotion that the beautiful, fearsome, brave, Righteous Man deserves. Dean, who deserves so much more than he's been handed, who loves so fiercely that he convinced an angel to rebel in order to save humanity, and whose eyes express more than words could ever do justice.

No one has _ever_ looked at Cas the way Dean does.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew...I may have been having some feelings there, when I wrote this. It was supposed to be a little smutty ficlet, but Destiel happens. 
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://surly-cat.tumblr.com), if you wanna give me a holler :)


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